


Hell Is A Desert

by reysrose



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Canon, Ben gets it from his daddy, Ben has a lightsaber, Dehydration, F/M, Found Family, Fuck that kylo ren dude, He thinks it's cool, Heat Stroke, Jakku is the Bad Place, Leia is a BAMF, Malnutrition, Poor Rey, Refeeding Syndrome, Rey Needs A Hug, Smuggler Ben Solo, Solo Twins, Starving, Summary subject to change because it sucks but I'm too tired to care rn, TFA - Freeform, Trigger warning for Eating disorder/recovery/starvation, Vomiting, Why Does Everyone Want To Go Back To Jakku, another WIP my god, ben needs a hug, but recovery from starvation, no eating disorder present in fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reysrose/pseuds/reysrose
Summary: Even as a child, a part of Rey knew she would die on Jakku. With every cycle around the sun, every mark scratched into stone or, later, the wall of her ruined AT-AT, that part of Rey grew larger and larger and threatened to swallow up the lingering hope of her parents returning to collect her.Ben Solo just wants to escape the war for a little while, but he can't. Poe Dameron goes missing on Jakku with a very important piece of information, and Ben is sent after him. He doesn't find Poe, but he does find Poe's droid and a girl. She's strong with the Force, and she definitely doesn't know it.Ben knows that, no matter what, he has to keep her away from Kylo Ren.





	1. Prologue (Rey)

Even as a child, a part of Rey knew she would die on Jakku. With every cycle around the sun, every mark scratched into stone or, later, the wall of her ruined AT-AT, that part of Rey grew larger and larger and threatened to swallow up the lingering hope of her parents returning to collect her. 

That part of her is finally winning. 

She’s too weak to move, has been for hours. She’d collapsed in the line for Unkar’s junk stall a day ago, having not eaten in two weeks and been on quarter portions for two weeks before that. Using the last of her strength, Rey had managed to crawl her way to a secluded and mostly shaded corner of Niima Outpost. Unable to lift her head, she passed out in the sun. It seemed that Rey’s luck in the Destroyers and the junk fields had worn thin. Like everyone who had fallen out of Lady Luck’s favor, she was doomed to die in a pile of filthy rags and useless parts. Rey knows what happens when people die here. They’re thrown in the desert, far from the settlement, and the gnawjaws and steelpeckers tear the corpses to pieces until only bones remain. Rey isn’t scared to die, not anymore. In fact, as she lays here and deteriorates, Rey would even dare to say that she’s ready for it. 

Her skin aches and itches, and she’s shivering violently despite the temperature. Sunstroke is setting in. She’d vomited not long ago, precious fluid wasted and seeping into the sand. At least she’s not sweating anymore. She knows that’s bad, but she can’t help being thankful for the lack of fluid loss. Rey’s back cramps, and she whimpers, twisting in her pile of rags in an effort to avoid the pain. 

She feels the seizure begin before she loses consciousness with the sweeping tide of tremors. 

As her body shakes, her bladder voids, and her teeth sink into her tongue, the blackness behind her eyelids is precious relief. 

~

“Hey, kid. Kid. Wake up.” 

There’s a hand on her face, turning her cheek to the light, opening her eyes. The sun burns her retinas and Rey snarls, ignoring the fact that it sounds more like a whimper, and snaps at the hand near her face. She catches a finger between her teeth and bites down hard. Her heart is fluttering, weak, in her chest, faster than her speeder and scared. Rey feels cold, and then hot, and then cold. 

“What the fuck- stop it, you little monster. I’m trying to help you. Stop biting my finger.”

Something cool and wet settles on the back of her overheated neck, stinging her sunburn. Another something, the same cool something, drapes across her forehead and eyes, shielding her from the sun and the heat. He’s being sincere. She should stop biting him, then. Rey reluctantly lets go of the finger clamped between her teeth, running her dry tongue over her dry lips. She tastes blood, feels a stinging ache. Her eyes focus on the man above her and she snorts. He’s pale, soft, angular of features, and definitely not from Jakku. She should have expected as much. Nobody local cares if some little junk rat dies from exposure. Rey herself has watched people die out here and not done a single thing to help them. What goes around comes around. R’iia, but he’s pretty to look at. He cups the back of her head, lifting her an inch out of the sand. Her hair drapes over his wrist. 

“Come here, come on, that’s it. Here.”

He presses a canteen in her hand and she tries to grip it, she really does, but the muscles in her arm seize and she wails at the pain of it, the searing ache crackling like fire across her nerves, dropping the metal bottle into her heap of fabric, sweat, and bile. The lip presses against her mouth, and water, sweet, precious water, floods her tongue. Rey gulps, choking herself on the fluid, desperate for more, greedy. She’s so thirsty, so so fucking thirsty. 

“Slow, kid, come on.” 

The canteen is gone and Rey whines, tries to bite again, too sick to do anything else in retaliation. Her stomach sloshes. She’s still so thirsty. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Forever.”

“I mean in the sun.” 

She shrugs, or tries to. Her back seizes up. A hand grips at the tense muscles and it’s only then that Rey realizes she’s keening and mewling in pain.

“Can I help you? Let me help you. You need a doctor.”

“N-No doctor.”

“Why not?”

Her vision is starting to fade out, her eyes clouding, the world going grey and fuzzy. The tingle behind her ear that she’s gotten before every seizure starts up. Her mouth begins to taste of salt. She tries to warn the man currently trying to take her off world, to help her, but she doesn’t get a chance before she’s biting through her lip and fading. It’s quick this time. When she wakes up, still trembling, nauseous, limp, bloody, aching, the man is still there, staring down at her, still cupping her head. His fingers are long, and they brush through her hair in a slow, calming rhythm. Her hair has come loose from her buns and is crusted with sand and blood and sweat, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He offers her more water but her tongue feels heavy. His hand swipes across her chin. It comes away bloody. Her face hurts. 

“Kid, please let me get you to a doctor.” 

“First, tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Name.”

She doesn’t feel well. Her body is being lifted, careful hands cradling her against a broad chest. She’s so tired.

“Ben. Ben Solo.” 

“Help.” 

“I’m going to. I swear. Stay awake, kid.”

“Rey.”

“That your name?”

“Rey,” she says again, unable to do anything else, “Rey.”

Her voice is less than a whisper. There’s a roaring in her ears and she wonders if she’s hallucinating, because they’re sprinting and falling. Sand kicks up around them, scratching at her burnt skin. Rey can hear blaster bolts singing, plasticine armor cracking, and people screaming. Her head gives a violent throb as the man, Ben, Ben, it sits sweet in the back of her throat, pounds up something metal into a cool, dark place. She’s strapped into a seat and she slumps against her restraints, exhausted. She can hear an engine, feel the purr beneath her limp feet. 

“Hold on, Rey. 

She tries.


	2. Hyperspace (Ben)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben finds Rey and they get the hell off Jakku. Why does everyone want to go back to Jakku?

Ben Solo has never hated Poe Dameron more than he does at this very second, as the Falcon touches down on Jakku and the gangplank opens only to blast him with an absolute wall of heat. Chewie looks out over the wasteland, curses him, and slinks back into the ship. Ben rolls his eyes. Looks like he’s on his own.

He’s supposed to be hauling Rathtars with his father right now, not searching a junk heap of a planet for the Resistance’s wayward golden boy, but when Leia Organa asks you to do something, you do it. His father had been understanding, letting him take the Falcon off the much larger freighter en route to King Praana. They have a set plan. Ben finds Poe, Ben takes Poe back to D’Qar, Ben stays until Han comes back, they go off on another stupid and dangerous job in order to continue funding the Resistance. Rinse, repeat. At least this way, Ben stays out of the fighting. Ben really, really wants to stay out of the fighting.

And, sure, Ben hates Poe, but Poe is also his best friend and he is a little (a lot) worried about him. However, he’s still pissed that he’s on fucking Jakku instead of sleeping on the freighter with his thumb up his ass. Ben cuts off his wandering train of consciousness before it derails into panic, because oh shit, his best friend is missing and potentially dead, and walks out of the relative shade of the Falcon and into the blistering heat of Jakku.

Niima outpost is less an outpost and more a city of tattered tents and even more tattered people. He doesn’t see a single individual of the human variety that looks to be over 40 years old. There’s no food, no water, just portion packs.

He’s stripping off his jacket when something warbles, slamming into his shins hard enough to make him stumble.

“What the fu- BB-8?”

Poe’s little droid rolls back and forth in the sand, beeping excitedly and running over Ben’s toes more than once. He crouches, to lay a hand on the droid’s dome.

“Where’s Poe, bud?”

The droid almost howls, his dome sliding down his dusty round belly. There’s fresh carbon scoring on his body, and Ben makes a note to work some of it out when they get back to base.

“You don’t know?”

A soft trill. BB bumps him again and Ben pats his dome, fear rising in his chest. He can feel darkness swirling at the back of his brain and he pushes it down, inhaling sharply through his nose.

“Well, why don’t we ask around, huh? Maybe somebody saw him.”

The locals are not receptive to questioning, to say the least. Ben gets about 5 blasters pointed at him, whacked in the skull with a staff by a little old lady, and spit on. Finally, a wrinkled Twi’lek takes pity on him.

“If you’re looking for someone, best ask Unkar Plutt. His stall is in the center. Big, fat bastard of a Crolute. Can’t miss him. Nothing and nobody comes through Niima without him knowing. If your friend has been here, he’ll know.”

The Twi’lek points. BB-8 heads off in a whirr of gears and the sharp shrill of binary, and Ben follows.

About 2 minutes in, BB stops dead, his probe coming out and rifling at a pile of rags heaped in a corner between two ramshackle stalls. The rags rustle, and Ben is ready for some sort of rodent, angry at being disturbed. BB-8 trills, poking harder.

A single sunburnt hand flops from the wriggling pile of fabric, and a low moan echos off the canvas around them. Ben moves some of the rags aside and curses. The rodent isn’t a rodent. It’s a girl, sunburnt, hot and dry to the touch. Her cheekbones could cut through glass, and when she shifts in her sleep again, Ben sees just how skeletal she is. There’s no water, no canteen, no food anywhere in her little bundle, and there’s blood smeared on her face. She isn’t sweating. Ben knows the signs of heatstroke. He reaches down, gripping her shoulder.

“Hey, kid. Kid. Wake up.”

The girl doesn’t respond. He turns her cheek, opening her eyes to check her pupils. She’s breathing, quick, choking gasps like she can’t get enough air into her lungs.

She bites him in response. For someone who’s so sick, she bites with determination and he swears, trying to shake her off him. She doesn’t let go.

A wave of the Force hits him, so hard he almost forgets how to breathe. The girl. He can feel it. Fuck. Shit. Shit.

Force sensitive, starving, in desperate need of care and belonging? She’s a direct target for- no. He’s not thinking of him. But Ben knows that if he can feel how strong she is, even as she moans and cries from the pain of heatstroke, chokes on the water he feeds her, seizes in his arms, then He definitely knows.

He has to get her somewhere safe. Before He finds her and lures her in with promises that He won’t actually keep.

“Kid, please let me get you to a doctor.”

  
“First, tell me.”

  
“Tell you what?”

  
“Name.”

  
He does, scooping her into his arms before heading towards Unkar Plutt’s stall again. She weighs nothing, and Ben can feel the ridges of her vertebrae against his arms in stark relief. She’s filthy with sweat and blood, urine and sick. She’s been laying there for a while. Another curl of dark across his mind, anger at the people of Niima outpost for leaving a person to die in the sand right in their midst.  
“Help.”

  
Her voice is weak, her entire body shaking. A muscle in her leg cramps and her knee barely misses his nose as her body jerks with the pain. He feeds her more water. There’s a line in front of the stall and he joins it, rocking slightly to calm the tiny creature dying in his grip. She’s probably about 20, freckled, gorgeous hazel eyes that barely focus when they open. He gives her more water. She nearly sobs as it touches her tongue.

  
“I’m going to. I swear. Stay awake, kid.”

  
“Rey.”

  
“That your name?”

  
She says it again, going limp as the spasm retreats. His comm beeps and he stops, cradling her with one arm. Her head falls onto his shoulder. The line moves, slowly, steadily.

  
“Mom.”

  
“Ben, we found Poe. Or rather, he found us.”

  
“I’m gonna kill him.”

  
His mother snorts and he can imagine the look on her face. Rey moans softly and Ben shields her eyes from the burning sun, stroking her dry, cracking skin. He leaves the line and begins to head towards the Falcon. Rey needs medical attention, water, food. His heart contracts when he realizes he can’t feed her until she’s evaluated.

  
“Well, I found his damn droid-Ow, BB.”

  
“Good.”

  
“I gotta go, Ma. Gotta meet back up with Dad before we can come home.”

  
“Be careful.”

  
“We never are.”

  
The end of the connection gets lost in the sudden shriek of TIES overhead. Ben swears. Of fucking course. Of course they know that BB-8 has that map. He is good at His job, and Poe is as Force Sensitive as a brick. Dammit. He runs, dodging, BB-8 streaking along next to him. Rey cries out, incoherent and barely conscious, and he tucks her head further into his chest right as a blast sends him flying. His vision spots out, his head thudding back into the sand, and then he’s up and running. Rey is sobbing drily, probably delirious, definitely terrified. The Falcon has never looked so welcoming as it does when he sprints up, shouting at BB to hold onto something. Chewie howls, lumbering towards the gunner post as Ben skids into the cockpit, practically tossing Rey into the copilot’s chair and strapping her in. Her head lolls, and he knows she’s losing consciousness but he doesn’t have the time to deal with that right now. He needs to get off planet.

  
He must’ve known that the droid but not Ben was on planet, because they hit atmo with minor interference. He comms his father, telling him to get a medical bed ready, and then turns to Rey as Chewie takes his spot in the pilot’s seat.

  
The Wookiee howls, jerking his head towards the girl.

  
“Local. Found her dying in the street. She’s like me.”

  
Chewbacca gives him the look he remembers from childhood, and Ben shrugs, smirking. Rey whines, gagging, and Ben unstraps her, sliding her into his arms.  
He knows how to treat heatstroke. That he can do. He wants to feed her, desperately, because he knows how awful it is to feel hungry, but he knows he can’t without risking killing her. He comms his mother, laying Rey out on the bed in the captain’s quarters and shaking her awake.

  
“I need to talk to Kalonia.”

  
“Why? Are you hurt? Benjamin Solo I swear-”

  
“I’m fine, Ma. I picked up a stray. Found her half dead in the street. It looks like she hasn’t eaten in weeks, and I need to know if and what I can feed her until we get back to base.”

  
The line goes quiet. Rey whimpers, looking up at him.

  
"I need to undress you, alright? I’m not going to hurt you but we need to cool you down.”

  
She nods, eyes clouding. Ben strips her down to her undergarments and nearly gasps. She’s skin and bones, every rib visible, her hip bones sharp, knees as wide as her thighs.

  
“Ok, alright. Rey, you’re ok with this, right?”

  
A nod. She’s drifting. He begins to wet a cloth with cool water from the canteen, smoothing it over her brutalized skin. He’s never seen a sunburn this bad. There are blisters forming on any inch of uncovered skin, her face and hands and upper arms. She cries out when he touches her with the cloth and he soothes her as best he knows how, and Alderaanian lullaby filling the space between them.

“Ben?”

  
The comm crackles again. Rey startles and then goes limp, eyelids fluttering as Ben continues to wipe at her chest and neck with the cold cloth.

  
“ She said that, if she’s malnourished, empty calories are best until we establish how bad the malnourishment is. Broth and crackers. Do you know how long she’s gone without food?”

  
“Rey?”

  
No answer. He calls her name again. She mumbles something.

  
“I can’t hear you, kid. Come on.”

  
“Two weeks.”

  
“She said two weeks.”

  
“Stars. Small portions, empty calories. Fluids and lots of them. Are you meeting up with your father?”

  
“Yeah. Should I just bring her back to base?”

  
“No. We’re undersupplied and possibly about to change locations. Han and his medbay will be better equipped right now.”

  
“Gotcha. Be safe, Mom.”

  
“You too.”

  
The comm ends and Ben focuses his full attention on Rey. She feels cooler, if only a little bit, but she’s disoriented and terrified, sobbing and begging.

  
“Take me back, please take me back, my parents, please-”

  
“Shhhhh. Shhh, sweetheart, shhh.”

  
The only thing that seems to calm her is being held in his lap, a cool cloth on her forehead and neck and a few wrapped around her thin wrists. Ben goes back to singing, letting her cling to him and cry into his shirt. She’s still too dehydrated to produce tears but her back hitches on sobs, her muscles spasming. Chewie brings in thin broth, setting it next to them both and stroking Rey’s head with one massive paw. Chewie seems to calm her, Ben notices. He’ll have to take advantage of that if she's still panicked when it’s time to get her in a shower and clean her up.

  
“Don’t leave, come back, please don’t leave, please, no, don’t leave me here.”

  
“Nobody is leaving you. You’re safe. I’m not leaving you.”

  
The broth is slow going. Rey is so weak she can’t hold the spoon, her boney fingers shaking when she tries. The taste shocks her and she yelps, spitting her first mouthful out. She’s cooler, definitely, almost normal human temperature under his palm. The broth doesn’t stay down.

  
The shower helps with the pain of her skin, Ben can tell. She’s almost calm as he washes her skin and hair carefully, seemingly in awe of the water flowing down above her. It makes sense. The poor kid grew up on Jakku and has probably never seen rain or running water.

“Clean.”

“Yeah.”

“Never been this clean.”

She’s more lucid, still exhausted, but as he wraps her in a towel and then carries her back to the bedroom she’s more alert.

“Where are we going?”

“Meet up with someone. They have a medbay.”

“For what?”

“Getting you healthy.”

Rey rolls her eyes, letting him tug one of his shirts over her head and a pair of soft sleep pants. He has to take the waist in with the drawstring until fabric bunches up around her thin hips.

“Now that I’m not dying of heatstroke I think I’m probably alright.”

He hands her a cup of water and she manages to bring it to her mouth and drink without help, but the motion exhausts her and she sinks back onto the bed, curling in on herself.

“You said you hadn’t eaten in two weeks.”

“I haven’t. Except, did you give me food? I kinda remember it.”

“Yeah.”  
“Can I have more?”

She looks so hopeful and it breaks his heart. Ben shakes his head, carefully braiding her wet hair up and away from her face. She likes having her hair played with, he can already tell, because she sighs and her eyes close, body relaxing. Tremors run through her muscles every so often, and he can tell they’re painful.

“Why?”

“You ever get sick after eating when you haven’t eaten in a while? Like, really sick?”

Rey nods.

“Sometimes I get the shakes and my heart hurts. Other times I can’t really see for a couple days.”

“That’s called refeeding syndrome. It’s really fuckin dangerous. So until we know how bad it is, I can’t give you a lot of food or you might get sick like that again.”

“I’ve been sick like that before. What’s the problem now?”

“Rey, refeeding syndrome can kill you.”

“Oh. Can I go to sleep or will that kill me too?”

“Funny. Yeah, you can sleep.”

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you-” she looks hesitant- “will you stay? And maybe sing that song again?”

“Definitely. Get some rest.”

She sleeps for the rest of their trip, a peaceful sleep without fever induced nightmares. He wakes her up periodically for fluids. She grumbles every time but gulps down the water he offers her like someone is going to take it. He guesses that, if she were back on that sandy pile of bantha shit, someone would try to take it.  
And, of course, because this is his life, when they finally get there, Rey asleep in the third seat in the cockpit and wrapped in a blanket (now that she’s not got heat stroke her core temperature is hovering on the edge of hypothermic from her complete lack of body mass because of course nothing can ever be simple) they dock on his father’s ship directly in the middle of a fucking firefight.

Han Solo, galaxy renown scumbag, strikes again.


	3. Green (Rey)

For the first time in her memory, possibly the first time in her life, Rey wakes up comfortable. There’s no sweat already sticking her hair to her skin, no sand in her hammock, no insects buzzing around her face. She’s not sweltering in her own skin. She sighs, feeling the heaviness in her limbs, the dull ache in her temple. Maybe not entirely comfortable, then. 

There’s a big hand resting on her cheek, thumb brushing back and forth against the thin skin under her eye. She presses into the touch and then-

Falls off the bed, scrambling back into the corner and reaching for her staff, groping blindly, not finding it, drawing her knees into her chest and snarling. Someone is in her AT-AT. Someone is trying to rob her, to kill her, she’s sick and weak and someone is here and she can’t fight them off and-

“Rey, Rey, it’s just me. It’s Ben.” 

She sucks a deep breath in through her nose, her head heavy, the room spinning when she opens her eyes, and forces herself to think through the thick fog hovering low over her sore brain. Ben. Ben? The man. The man who gave her water and food and a bath. Ben. Right. She extends a shaking hand and lets him brush her fingers gently, making a conscious effort to allow the touch and not flinch at it. He’s slow, working his way up her arm with trailing fingers until he’s cupping her face to look at her. Rey moans. She feels ill, wants to lay down, to collapse. She hunches over, pressing her face into the soft pants covering her boney knees, trying to fight a wave of dizziness and nausea. 

“You’re safe, yeah? We’re still on the ship.” 

She moans again. She needs to lay down. Ben worries over her, his hands fluttering like he’s scared to touch her any more than he already is. She’s going to be sick. She hates this, hates feeling so awful. She dry heaves. 

“Shh. Can I pick you up, Rey?”

She nods, pressing her face into Ben’s shoulder in an attempt to ground herself. Vertigo twists her brain and her guts up. Her face is being cradled, her temple resting on the rim of a toilet. She still feels sick. 

They stay there like that, Rey resting her head on the seat of the toilet, Ben holding her half in his lap. He coaxes her into eating a few crackers. They taste like nothing, but they settle the acid pain in her belly enough that she can lift her head to rest it on Ben’s shoulder without throwing up. His hand makes broad swipes up and down the length of her back. 

“I’m sorry I startled you.”

“It’s alright.” 

Ben begins to undo the loose braid he had put in her hair, brushing through the length with smooth strokes before twining the strands back up on the back of her head. If Rey was a lothcat, she would be purring, but she settles for a faint hum in the back of her throat. Ben is warm, so warm, and she is so achingly cold. Her fingers and toes seem to cramp with it. She wiggles her bare feet, trying to tuck them under Ben’s thigh. 

“We’re going to see someone, stop and get fuel. You still need a doctor, but Maz will at least have warm tea and clothes for you.”

“I have to go back.”

“To Jakku?”

Rey nods. Ben doesn’t press the issue, just keeps rubbing her back. 

“Your stomach feel settled enough to move off the floor and back to the cockpit? We’re going to be landing soon and I want to show you something.”

She nods again. Tears clog her throat. What if they come back while she’s off world? She should have been more careful. Judicious with her water and her portions. But she was so thirsty, all the time. A wave of vertigo and nausea floats through her as Ben stands up and she whines despite herself, clenching her jaw. 

“Can I try something?”

“What?”

She wiggles, stretching her feet towards the floor. Ben sets her down, both arms wrapped around her, one on her waist and one around her shoulders. Her balance is a little off and her head gets dizzy, but she manages to walk to the cockpit on her own, bare feet cold against the durasteel floor of the ship. Ben leaves a hand resting on the small of her back the whole time, a safeguard. 

Her boots are on the floor next to one of the seats and she stumbles towards them, eager to cover her icy feet. She looks up as she grabs them, fending off a wave of illness, and squeaks, scrambling back towards Ben. There’s a man in the cockpit, grizzled and grey and looking shockingly like Ben. He’s not Ben, though, and her survival instincts begin to throb in the back of her ribcage. She needs to run, to hide, to fight and kick and bite. 

“You must be the girl my son found. Nice to meet ya.”

Rey shrinks back when he extends a hand, eyes rolling around the cockpit with frenetic energy as she searches for anything she can use as a weapon. Ben’s hand comes up and spans her waist, splays across her stomach, thumb rubbing against her side. A jolt of warmth shoots to her limbs. 

“Rey, calm down. He’s not going to hurt you.” 

“I am calm.”

The man laughs, withdrawing his hand. 

“Han Solo, kid. Nice to meet you. 

“Han Solo? THE Han Solo?”

She feels giddy, like a kid, meeting an actual real life legend. 

“If you’re Han Solo, then this must be the Millenium Falcon-Oh, fuck, I puked in the Millenium Falcon. Did you really make the Kessel Run in 14 parsecs?”

Ben and Han both snort and go “12, actually” at the exact same time and Rey laughs. 

Ben shepherds her into a seat, worried she’s going to fall. Rey wants to argue, and does a little bit, but he’s not exactly wrong. She’s tired. The little droid, BB-8, that’s been burbling around comes up to her and leans against her leg. Rey pats his dome. He’s cute. 

“So let’s see this map, bud.”

Rey can’t help but stare as a fluorescent picture of the stars fills the cockpit, taking in the image with wide eyes. Han swears, scuffing his boot across the floor. 

“That can’t be all of it, BB.” 

The droid warbles sadly, nudging itself behind Rey’s leg. The map disappears and Rey blinks stars from her vision.

“Fuck it. We’ll show it to the General anyways. Lord knows she knows more than all of us combined.” 

“What is that a map to?”

Han looks at her with weight. Rey shrinks back into her chair.

“Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s-He’s just a myth.”

Han sighs. Ben’s hand, resting on the ancient leather of her seat, tightens around the back of it.

“He’s very much real, kid.”

“Then the Jedi-”

“Real too.”

Rey isn’t sure she believes him, but there’s something about the way the energy in the cockpit has shifted and the way the air around Ben seems to hum with something she can barely grasp onto in the back corner of her mind that makes her receptive. 

There’s a clunk and a shift and then Ben cups Rey’s cheek gently from where she’s still blinking light out of her vision, guiding her head towards the windows. Her mouth drops open and she leans forward in the seat, thankful she’s not strapped in. Ben smiles, and Han looks at her, oddly sad in the creases around his eyes.  
“I didn’t know there was this much green in the whole galaxy…”

The world they’ve descended on is awash with it, trees and grass and water, so much water, more water than Rey could ever imagine. She wants to submerge herself in it, see if it feels like the shower she wishes she remembered better. There are tears in her eyes and she blinks them away before anyone notices. Ben had seen her cry during her heatstroke, but that was different. She’s lucid now, fully aware. She needs to keep a brave face. 

Han hands her a blaster in the cockpit. 

“You know how to use one of these?”

“I think I can handle myself.”

His eyebrow quirks up.

“I like her. I know ya can, kid, that’s why I gave to you.”

After a quick demonstration, Ben convincing her to get down some broth, and a 20 minute trip to the bathroom in which she moaned and gasped and fought to keep the food in her stomach and won, surprisingly, they headed out into the wonderful greenness of Takodana. 

She stumbles going down the ramp, shaky, aching with exhaustion. Ben wraps a broad arm around her waist and she snarls at him to let her go and then promptly falls on her ass in the dirt. 

She lets him carry her into the courtyard after that, cheeks hot with embarrassment. She’s so weak and she hates it, but Ben is solid and warm and when he brushes his lips over the crown of her head almost unconsciously, her belly flutters with something better than hunger. 

“Don’t stare,” he murmurs, hitching her up a little so she can loop her arms around his neck and put her head in the hollow of his throat. Her heartbeat is throbbing in her head too quick.

“At what?”

“Any of it.” 

Rey has never seen that many people in one place, never heard that much noise at once, and it makes her skin itch and she shoves against Ben’s chest, wriggling. Her words had been stolen from her in the wake of the wall of overstimulation Takodana’s cantina had produced, and Ben sets her down but keeps a hand on her waist. Rey is thankful for it, the touch grounding her. 

“HAN SOLO.”

The whole bar goes silent. Rey jerks, reaching for her blaster, but Ben stays her hand. Her skin ITCHES, dammit. 

“Hi Maz.”

And then they’re in a corner booth, a tiny orange almost humanoid woman sitting next to Han and asking after Chewbacca. Rey’s skull buzzes with sound and she must’ve made a noise because Ben tucks her against him and leans forward.

“Maz, is there anywhere quiet Rey and I can go? She’s not feeling well.” 

He lifts her and she doesn’t complain, just hides her face in his shirt and covers her ears and squeezes her eyes shut. 

The noise fades away and a wash of cool air fades over her skin before Rey will open her eyes. They’re in a stone walled room, slits in the rock acting as windows, letting in golden light. It’s cool and quiet and Rey feels her chest loosen. Ben lays her down on a pile of fabric in the corner, stroking her hair back from her cheeks. Rey realizes then that she’s soaked in sweat, still shaking. 

“You better?”

“Y-yeah. Sorry. It was just-there were so many people.”

“I’m gonna go get you a drink. Just rest.”

She almost begs him not to, to stay with her, because she can hear strange sounds from outside the room, but she wants that water. She lets go of the hand she was clutching. 

Seconds after his footsteps fade, Rey hears the baby. It’s shrieking, the poor thing, and Rey drags herself onto unsteady feet and follows the sound, using the wall as a crutch when her weak legs threaten to give underneath her. The screaming gets louder, and Rey realizes that it’s not a baby but a small child. What had sounded like wordless screams through thick stone walls were words, words that rang inside Rey’s head. She ducks into the room where the sound is coming from, and there’s no baby. 

Just a wooden box. 

The scavenger in her and the part of her that is still convinced there’s a child in danger propels her towards it, even as the air hums around her in a way that disquiets her. She hits her knees next to it, undoing the latch with shaking fingers. Her brain short circuits, shiny, clean, valuable metal in front of her. She reaches out, clenches her fingers around it, goes to lift it out of the box- 

Rey screams. She’s stumbling, staggering, heart beating out of her chest as her surroundings warp and change. Jakku, her younger self. A ship’s corridor, tilting and slanting and collapsing no matter how fast she runs. Over and over, blood and snow and fire and silt assaulting her senses and no matter where she ends up, that strange piece of metal still clenched in her fist. She grits her teeth, uncurls her fingers (the thing is almost stuck to her), and lets it drop.

She’s on her back in the castle on Takodana again, tears wetting her cheeks. Maz Kanata stands over her, glasses making her eyes the size of the plates in her cantina. Rey scrambles to seated. 

"What was that? I shouldn't have gone in there"  
"That lightsaber was Luke Skywalker’s, and his father's before him and now it calls to you!"  
"I have to get back to Jakku"  
"Ben told me. He wasn’t sure if you were serious or not. I know that you are. Dear child, I see your eyes - you already know the truth. Whomever you are waiting for on Jakku, they're never coming back but, there's someone who still could"  
"Luke"  
"The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead. I am no jedi, but I know the force. It moves through and surrounds every living thing. Close your eyes, feel it. The light. It's always been there. It will guide you. The sabre - take it."  
"I'm never touching that thing again, I don't want any part of this"  
Maz is holding her cheeks in tiny, work worn hands. Rey does what she does best, then, and runs. The stairs wind her, her chest and legs aching, but she doesn’t stop. She can’t stop. She heads into the trees, fear clutching at her chest. The vision, the things she saw, she can’t shake the idea that she’s seen it all before, in dreams. 

Rey stops, leaning over a boulder and throwing up from both fear and exertion. She spits, wipes her hand over her mouth, and stumbles about five feet to the left and sits, gasping. Her chest aches and throbs. She closes her eyes. 

A beep and a warble. Something bumps her leg.

“BB-8? What are you doing here?”

Three long beeps and a trill.

“Ben sent you after me? Well, you can tell him thank you for the help and the worry, but I can’t keep traveling with them. I’ve got to head back to Jakku.”

The droid bumps against her leg again and she strokes at his domed head despite herself, still catching her breath. 

An explosion, then another. Screams of ships and blaster bolts. Rey runs again, BB-8 rolling across the uneven ground and keeping pace with her.

“You need to go back to Ben! Yes, now! I’ll be fine, alright, but you have that map they’re so keen about. No, no, I’ll be alright, BB. Yes, I’ll try to come back! Go!” 

She stumbles off in a different direction, startling badly when she sees a stormtrooper. It raises a blaster at her and she aims with her own. Nothing happens. Fuck. The safety. 

To Rey’s shock and surprise, she hits her target. And another, and another, all while getting the fuck away from the fighting. 

The air shifts, shivers. Something in Rey’s brain begins to sing. There’s someone in the woods with her. 

The creature appears from above her, swathed in black, a terrible black and chrome mask glinting in the light from the sun and the fire blossoming up over the trees. Panic takes her and she shoots aimlessly, unable to hit the thing chasing her. He has a lightsaber. A real one. Rey takes off as fast as she can.This is legend come to life, a nightmare. She’s dreaming. She crests a ridge and suddenly, suddenly-

She can’t move. Not a muscle. The thing comes closer, whipping the blaster out of her hand without touching it. God, she wishes she had stayed with Ben.

“The girl I've heard so much about. The droid. Where is it?”

She can’t answer. She can’t do anything. Why has he heard about her, and from who? A hand comes up, palming the side of her head. The thing inhales sharply, the sound distorted and sinister. She wants to fight, to kick and bite and scratch and hit and kill, but she can’t because she can’t move. Not even an inch. 

“The map. You've seen it.”

Fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. She’s in the shit, now. The hand leaves her head and Rey could cry with relief. 

“Pull the division out. Forget the droid. We have what we need.”

And with a wave of a massive, black gloved hand, Rey feels her muscles relax, her eyes roll back, and she falls headfirst into insidious, oily blackness.


End file.
